By This Sword
by born in fire
Summary: AU in which Sansa Stark leaves kings landing with Sandor Clegane and the trials they face whilst a friendship and love blossoms which neither expected
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the following Characters, they are all from the wonderful imagination of GRRM.

This is my first attempt at this sort of thing, so please be gentle. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing.

Chapter 1

Alone.

That is all she felt, her world was burning around her, swathes of green fire burning the bay. How could she have dreamt for so long that this was the place she was meant to be? To stand beside the golden-haired king, to be his loyal lady wife. She could scarcely believe the turns her life had taken. She had dreamt for so long about the lords and ladies of high court, the splendour, the luxury and what had she received in return? pain, loss, punishment and fear. Her family scattered in the four winds, the daughter of an accused traitor, unknowing where her mother and lord brother were and her younger siblings scattered in the aftermath of her father's death at the hand of Ser Ilyn, ordered by the boy she was betrothed, in whom she had placed so much of her girlish hopes of love happiness and children. The boy who had uncovered his darker more sadistic side over the course of time, exacting his pleasure from her beaten body, she still bore the bruises of her last beating.

Sansa Stark stood by the window of her room, surveying the devastation caused by the Lannisters and the Baratheons. "How can i leave?" she wondered silently to herself. I have no friends, no allies no one I can trust. The only person who had shown her any semblance of kindness was the brutish, violent Hound, and even then this kindness had come in the form of torture his mocking sardonic gaze, she recalled with fear their first meeting in Winterfell. Surveying that face for the first time, the twisted snarl, the lank hair, the burns, by gods the burns, never in her short life had she witnessed a trauma as menacing as those, giving the Hound a fearsome look which matched his reputation. But even then he had shown small kindness to her.

She knew of the torture he had experienced at the hands of his brother, the mountain, an apt name for a man so large. Sansa reflected on the Hound, this was an appropriate moniker for this fearsome man, loyal and ferocious. By gods he was loyal, always at Joffreys side willing to do his bidding as a good dog should.

Sansa felt hopeless, that she had reached the end of her path of this life with no were to turn, she had lost all hope of being saved like the ladies of her books. Fairytales, that is all they were. She felt foolish that she had paid so much heed in them. Her knight had become her captor. Here she was a daughter of Winterfell, with the ice of the north running through her veins, the blood of the direwolf, strong and ferocious, something to be feared. Yet here she stood, a little song bird, trapped in a gilded cage. A cage of her own making. Only brought out to entertain and amuse. She felt weak.

There was a time when she was proud to be this little bird, she thought of herself as beautiful, soul full and able to fly away if she needed. These things had become a false lie. She was trapped.

Sansa turned to gather her thoughts, to draw her eyes away from the devastation before her. She moved to the door way fear growing in her belly at the commotion which seemed to be growing closer and closer to her door. As she moved to close the door she became aware of a hulking presence near the end of the corridor. By Gods, they had come for her, they had breached the battlements. The shape started to move towards her doorway, Sansa stood struck still by fear, the loud thud of boots, the chink of armour as the shape moved surprisingly swiftly for such a large mass. As the presence grew closer, realisation dawned over Sansa of who this being was. The Hound.

Sansa stumbled back into her chambers as the Hound filled her doorway, Sansa opened her mouth to scream but the Hound was at her neck, she felt his hands closing around her windpipe and the sharp steel of his dagger pressing to her life blood. "Little Bird" he snarled, "I hear you start to sing, sing to me little bird, sing of the horrors which you see before you" As Sansa opened her mouth to fulfill his request the hound let go of her leaving her to crumple to the floor, he turned around to the window, Sansa absorbed the scene before her the great shoulders of this man who terrified her so, the man who had haunted her nightmares for so long and who always seemed to be watching, watching so intently of every move she made. She noticed the long white cloak around his shoulders, a mark of the kings men, although this was no longer the pure white she was used seeing. This was now brown and red and black, it looked as battle-scarred as the man who was before her.

"What are you still doing here little bird, why havent you flitted away?" The hound muttered without turning to look at her. "I have no where else to be Ser, no where that I can be safe, my kinsmen are scattered" Sansa replied staring at her hands. The hound turned to look at her.

"Look at me little bird" the Hound requested harshly, as Sansa turned her eyes to face him, every fibre of her being wanted to avert her gaze from the man she saw in front of her, she felt repulsed not in so much of the man that stood before her but by the man she knew he was, the hard callous man, the man who had stood by whilst she received beating after beating at the hands of Kingsguard on the order of Joffrey. Yet she willed her self to stare long into this mans face, to drink in every crack, crevice and mark on his face. Sansa noticed the hounds eyes, a grey stormy colour, the colour of winter, of the north.

"I see you can look at me now little bird" the Hound grunted at her.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own the following characters, they are all from the wonderful imagination of GRRM!

Please review and leave comments, this is my first attempt at this sort of thing so please be gentle.

Chapter 2

He looked down at this little thing sprawled on the floor in front of him, how pathetic she looked dressed in her finery despite the chaos that was ensuing around the city. A true little lady, everything about her belied her heritage, the offspring of two powerful houses, well once powerful houses he thought to himself.

"I see you can look at me now little bird" he grunted to her. He felt as though he had been pierced by her, those blue eyes, startling in their clarity and depth, he felt as though they were peering straight into his soul. "Be careful little bird" he thought to himself "you may not find you like what is staring back at you" Sandor, of the House Clegane. Famous for its ferocity and infamous for its actions. He was the loyal dog to the House of Lannister. This had given him an opening to allow him to indulge his rage and murderous thoughts. He was known as a great swordsman a ferocious warrior, a man without morals, a beast. The Hound.

"What are you doing here in my chamber's" the little bird chirped "there is a battle outside". Silly little bird he thought to himself, was she truly as silly as she sounded.

"Aye, little bird, there is a battle raging not far from this keep".

"Why, may I ask are you here then Ser"

Oh little bird he thought to himself, why would you ask such questions "I am not staying in this place, the water is burning and I am not burning with it" he spoke with a sly grin on his twisted features. "Fuck the King and fuck Kings Landing, they have had my pound of flesh, and what of you little bird, will you stay here in your cage of stone and gold?"

"Yes Ser, for where else am I to go, I have no means to travel North to find my kinsmen if that is where they may still be, I may be a stranger to Kings Landing but at least I shall be safe" she replied not believing her own words.

"Well then little bird, fly away with me, fly from this nightmare I will keep you safe" he said with a softness he did not know he could possess. The little bird he thought, so small and defenceless and yet still so blinded by the life at Kings Landing. Yes he thought a stranger you are, a child of the north, so far from home.

"come with me little bird, for both of us have no place in this hell any more. I shall keep you safe as I have done before" Keep her safe, he chuckled to himself, this had not been true before, had he not stood by whilst the child king Joffrey ordered her pain for his pleasure, had he not enjoyed seeing the little one in pain. You are no man Clegane, you are a dog, the man you were born to be cursed to serve no one but those which are your betters. But still he thought I can atone for my past, if I can save this little one, this little one who remains so pure in the face of all adversity, protect the innocence which you have done so little to maintain before.

He walked towards the little one, he saw as she shrank away at the presence of him, "not so brave are we now little bird. Do I scare you, is it my face which fears you or the thought of being alone with me?"

"I know what you are Ser, you are a murderer, a hired blade ordered to protect those around you, you pledge no fealty, you have no honour"

He saw the wolf inside the little bird for a second, the flinty strength of the north shining through those Tully blue eyes. "oh little bird" he thought " you are stronger than your captors give you credit for"

"Come with me little bird we need to fly, away from this place. If you do not consent willingly I will take you forcibly".

He turned to survey the room behind him, he saw the trappings of childhood which the little bird surrounded herself with, the dolls, the books. This is no fairytale he thought to himself and there will be no happy ending to her story if she stays here at the whim of the Lannisters or the Baratheons. No the little bird would know only pain and degradation and he could no longer allow this. He stooped to pick up a discarded robe and roughly placed it around the little birds shoulders.

"Now is the hour little bird, come"

They walked to the doorway, his hand placed upon the hilt of his long sword at his waist. It was going to be a long journey till they could find rest again.

"Are you ready little bird? Now is the time to spread your wings".


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3.

Sansa couldn't believe what she was hearing from the man stood in front of her. Empty promises of safety. Why would the man who stood by and watched her pain and agony say that he would keep her safe? and what choice did he give her, willingly or forcibly. That was no choice when she was too scared to move from where she stood.

Eventually the decision had been made for her, the action of him placing her cloak around her shoulders had sealed their fate together. She had no choice. As he led her from her chambers she thought back to when she first arrived in Kings Landing full of hope, happiness and wonderment of the place around her. How false they had come to be, she was not sad to be leaving this place, but she was scared of what the future may bring and of placing her life in the hands of this man. A man who had shown his true nature in the cruel acts which he completed. However, she thought to her self, could that be his true nature, surely no one could be truly evil, there had to be a softer side to every one. Sansa threw this notion aside of course it was true that a person was evil, had she not learnt that a person is governed by their actions and responses. Was this not what Septa Mordane had drilled into her, the importance of outwardly showing a courtly ladylike image.

"By the seven" Sansa exclaimed "please slow I can hardly match your pace"

Sandor looked down at the girl, his face appeared to be full of contempt for this interruption. "little bird, we need to hurry now is not the time for your mewling."

"But Ser, I cannot go further, my feet" Sandor looked down at her feet and noticed the redness beginning to emanate from her toes, they were bare, how could he not have noticed they were bare, in his haste to leave Maegor's keep Sandor had neglected to notice the little birds attire.

Sansa inhaled in surprise as suddenly he picked her up and threw her onto his shoulder "hold tight little bird, I may need to react at any moment" Sansa understood what he meant, she watched with fear as the city seemed to burn around her, the sky was red, peppered with smoke rising from the houses and courtyards beneath it. Sansa, disoriented by her surroundings could not place her whereabouts. She had no choice but to hold tight to him, she closed her eyes to the sights that were before her, but she could not close her ears to the sounds of the siege, she heard the shouts and screams of women and children as their world burnt around them. Yes, she was glad to be leaving this place.

They reached the stables, Sandor placed her down onto the cobbles. Sansa felt taken a back by the big man's actions during their flight from the keep, she did not expect him to carry her so swiftly whilst running through the crowds, she expected for him to tell her to cease her noise and continue, Sansa was drawn from her thoughts by the sound of a loud neigh, as she turned she saw the animal, this horse as black as night with an eye that looked wild and untamed. She stepped back from it, feeling more afraid of this than of the man who was beginning to saddle it. The big black destrier was like the horses in her book, the type of animals which carried the knights intent on causing harm to the folk of the kingdom. He was not the shining white steed of the glorified honorable knights. Sansa had to remind herself that she was not the maiden in her books and the Hound was not an honourable knight in shining armour.

Suddenly Sansa felt her self being picked up and placed in the saddle on the back of the big black horse, next she felt the big man land swiftly behind her. This took her by surprise the feel of his armoured chest so close behind her, she thought to herself, "what was I expecting for him to walk and lead me on foot", she pushed the thought from her mind now was not the time to be thinking of proper behaviour and decorum, the realisation that they were fleeing for their lives swiftly dawning upon her.

She felt the big man sharply kick the animal and the surge forward as the horse broke into a fast canter.

"Little bird, hold tight, we are heading for the Gates of the Gods, don't speak"

"Speak!" Sansa thought to herself she daren't open her mouth for fear she would scream, she had never been fond of horses, preferring to travel in a litten whilst she had been in the capital. But the speed at which this animal moved scared her, no she wouldn't speak.

They reached the iron gate, Sansa thought, "this is as far from the keep as I have been. I have never had chance to explore this place which I called home, she recalled happier times in Winterfell, watching Robb and Theon train with wooden swords, talking and gossiping with Jeyne. The times spent with her father. Sansa bowed her head and let out a small sob.

Sandor looked down at her questioningly "Little bird, what is the matter?".

" I was just remembering past times. Times that will never be again".

She heard the big man exhale deeply, "Be brave little bird, no one will harm you now"

Brave? how could she be brave while with this big man, she was scared and alone. With only this bear like man and the horse for company, not suitable company for a lady of Winterfell. But she believed him she did not think he would let any harm come to her, he had kept this promise so far.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own the following characters they are all from the wonderful imagination of GRRM.

Thank you for reading and please review.

Chapter 4

Her feet, how could she have not had coverings on her feet, this symbolised the little bird fully, flighty with no thought for practicalities he thought to himself, yet she was feather light when he picked her up. His sword would have weighed more than her. It was a strange feeling having someone so close to him, it made him feel uncomfortable and aware of his actions.

Sandor could not believe what he had done, he had kidnapped the Kings betrothed stolen her away from the Lannisters, yet he had done this in good faith to protect this little one. No Gods would punish him for his actions, if he believed in the Gods.

Sandor had formed a loose plan in his head, they would head for the Gates of the Gods and then North towards Acorn Hall. They would have to be careful along their way. There had been whispers of uprisings to the North of lawless men and rebels. Men who would feast on the flesh of his little bird. He may of only been the Lannister Dog but he knew when to listen well.

When they arrived at the stables he was amused by the little birds reaction to his horse, fear and awe. He was pleased with her reaction, the animal had a heart almost as black as himself, she was right to be afraid. As he swung himself up behind her into the saddle he felt the little bird squirm away from his touch. "Yes, little bird, be afraid, your fear will make you easier to protect" Sandor had begun to feel a familiarity with this little bird and a growing concern which he could not shake for her wellbeing. He felt protective, this emotion confused him, he was the Hound a glorified sellsword, a man who protected the highest bidder. Yet this girl offered him nothing. She was frightened of him, unable to look on his face unless forced but still he felt that he owed this little bird a service. Yes, she would be his way of atonement for past deeds and deeds he would commit in protecting her.

As they made towards the Gate of the Gods, he noticed a sob from the little bird, this irked him. When he questioned her, the realisation dawned on him, she was truly afraid and it was not him that had inspired this fear. He resolved that he would protect this girl, with his sword, his shield and his life.

They made it to the gates, ahead of them were crowds of people who had appeared to have had the same idea, they were trying to escape. The guards which manned the gates appeared to be overwhelmed. They were undermanned all fighting age men had been sent to the battlements.

"keep your head down little bird, we can't risk you being recognised"

"Yes" she breathed.

Luck was in their favour the crowd surged carrying them forward with the motion and through the stressed gates. As soon as the horses hooves touched the opposite side it was as if all the hells were after them. The horse flew. Sandor pushing his horse on with his spurs, wanting to put as much distance between them and that damned place.

"Hold fast little bird, Our journey is just beginning".

By morning they had put a considerable distance between themselves and Kings Landing, they had kept away from the main roads and villages staying towards wooded areas, providing considerable coverage.

The little bird had not stirred, he had felt her relax into his chest seemingly rocked asleep by the motion of the great horse. "Good" he thought "at least she can escape from the reality that is facing her". Sandor wondered how he could make this situation bearable for the little bird. He inspired fear in her, this was something that he did not wish to continue. Yes to remain wary of him but not to fear him.

He decided he would broach this issue with her when they stopped to rest, with the sunrise chasing them, Sandor hoped this would not be long.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own the following characters, they are all from the wonderful imagination of GRRM.

Please review, hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Chapter 5.

"I'm cold" she thought when she woke she felt the damp earth beneath her, mossy smells filling her nose. she turned over looking around, she noticed tree's without leaves and heard the running of a stream. Sansa sat up drawing her knee's close to her chest. She looked down at her dress, once so bright and soft, now stained and travel-worn by the previous nights escape, Sansa thought back to the flit from King's landing and the hound. The Hound. Where was he, she needed to stop thinking of him as the hound. Had he not proved himself to be someone more worthy of a name. She remembered being told his name, his true name. At that time she thought his name of no consequence to her. Sandor Clegane, a name to fear, a name to whisper. A warrior, a murderer. Sansa pushed these thoughts from her mind. She looked around and saw the man himself resting against the trunk of a tree. He's wider than the tree she thought, the shoulders so broad, the same shoulders which had borne her to safety in King's Landing.

Sansa stood and walked towards where the man sat, she knelt in front of him. His grey eyes watching her steadily.

"Ser" she mumbled "Ser, I wanted to thank you for your assistance last night"

Sandor looked long into her face, drinking in her features, the noble features of a highborn lady. Her startlingly blue Tully eyes, the high cheek bones and her auburn hair crowning her like a halo of fire.

She noticed his expression darken, she winced at what he was to say next.

"Ser" he spat "I am no Ser, I am no Knight of the realm do not fool yourself into thinking that I am such. Ser is just a cheap expression your Septa taught you, all Knights are cowards that hide behind the light of honour and service. All a true Knight believes in is gaining what he wants by trampling over those in his way. A true knight is a bloody bastard. My brother is a knight, look at my face and tell me the price of chivalry"

Sansa recoiled at his words, feeling as though he had slapped her.

"I...I did not mean to cause offence, I only wished to show my gratitude for your heroic actions"

"Little bird you speak words you know not the meaning, a hero is only an evil man that Septa's twist, to get little birds to roost with the high born lordlings that their fathers have chosen for them"

Sansa sat back and watched as Sandor walked away from her to where the horse was tethered, she allowed the words he spoke to wash over her like the cold sea's she had once visited with her father. Maybe this man is the how I thought him to be, there is no honour in his words, but he had never made her think that they would be.

She watched as he moved to a place just out of her sight line, she nestled herself against the tree where Sandor had once sat, she looked around him noticing the wine skin left in his wake, Sansa retrieved it from the ground folding it over in her hands. To her left she noticed a small dagger left on the ground. she picked this up feeling its weight in her small hands. She had never been close to a weapon that could inflict wounds on another, apart from those which Joffrey had ordered the Kingsguard to beat her with.

A thought ran through her mind, she could walk up behind Sandor and try to slit his throat, Sansa pushed this thought aside, the man was a highly trained killer, a man designed to inflict pain and suffering on another. there was no way the God's would see fit for her to launch an attack on a man such as this. Sansa leant her head back against the trunk of the old tree.

In the distance Sansa heard the sound of shouts, of quarrelsome men arguing over the direction. Sansa froze she felt the beat of her heart rising high in her throat. Sansa searched for the man who had sworn to protect her, to warn him to ask for him to prove his worth against these intruders. He was nowhere to be seen. Sansa stood becoming more anxious in her surroundings. She looked down at the Dagger in her hands the hilt crusted with a substance she feared she would not like the answer of, if she asked. At least she had some form of protection if she needed it she thought or else worse should she not find her protector she could deny these men their prize. The use it would be to her though, she was skilled at embroidery and dancing, but elaborate stitching and fancy steps would not protect her now.

Sansa went in the direction she saw Sandor move towards, she saw him some way in the distance, she began to move quicker towards him. She heard the sounds of the men getting closer, suddenly she saw one of them, wearing the colours of the Lannister hordes, Sansa stood still pushing herself into the arms of a tree. She watched as the boy walked to the stream and pause to fill his skin. He was merely yards away from her, she saw as the boy noticed Sandor, he began to walk towards him slowly, measured. She saw with trepidation as the boy reached to his belt to unsheath his blade. She saw the boys intention without seeing his face. Sansa knew she had to act, she needed to shed the feathers of the little bird, become the wolf that ran in her veins. Sansa moved towards the boy moving silently across the dirt of the earthen floor. She felt the blade of the dagger imagining it was an extension of her arm. As she closed to the boy she could hear his breath, the ragged breathing of a predator intent on its quarry. He was yards away from Sandor who had still not noticed the advancing boy, intent on his prize. She raised her arm above her head thrusting down with all the force she could muster aiming for the boys neck. He cried out loud and surprised as the blade sunk into his neck spilling blood as dark as Dornish wine.

Sandor looked up and saw the boy.

Within a second he was at the boy neck his long sword drawn, the boy looked into Sandor's face and screamed "I only hoped they would sing songs of my victory over the traitorous hound". Sandor swung his blade hard and fast against the boys neck severing him in two.

Sansa saw the expression in Sandors face and waited for the verbal assault that was sure to come.

To Sansa's surprise she saw the scarred face twist into something that resembled a smile.

"I see the little bird has grown claws "


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own the following characters, they are from the wonderful imagination of GRRM

Please review, I hope you enjoy reading this, it is a pleasure to write.

Chapter 6

Sandor surveyed the scene before him, the little bird shaking with his dagger still in her hand. He thought back to his words he had spoken to her the hurt on her face. He felt dismayed, the hurt he caused, but this was for her benefit not his. She needed to understand that the world was not filled with the gallant knights and men in her tales but with likes of the men, who lay and stood before her. Men who would take what they wanted and not pay heed to the consequence. But still her actions had surprised him, something stronger ran through her veins was it the ice of the north or was it his influence seeping into her? Sandor put these thoughts aside. He was grateful for the little birds actions. To of had this young pup spill his blood would have been an unthinkable occurence.

Sandor walked to the little bird slowly releasing the dagger from her hand, she clung to it as if it was the only solid thing in her world. He watched as the girl fell to the floor the enormity of her actions slowly sinking into her. He needed to make her realise that she did not deliver the death-blow to this young pup. That he took the responsibility for it, another number added to his list of deeds.

He took the dagger to the stream washing the boys blood from the blade, he returned the blade to the girl pressing it to her palm offering it as a gift. The little bird looked up at his face unflinching from his disfigurement, "it's as if she see's me for the first time" he thought. Sandor walked away from the scene leaving his little bird to gather her thoughts and her senses.

Shortly after he heard the soft footsteps of the Stark girl behind him. They sounded tentative and unsure, he turned to look at her, she still seemed lost and unsure. Sandor walked towards her and knelt before her.

He heard himself say words he never thought he would utter.

"Thank you little bird" Sansa looked into his face as if she were searching for acceptance of what she had done, she looked down to her hands the dagger still clasped firmly in them.

For a moment Sandor felt himself soften in the girls obvious despair. "You have done what you thought necessary little bird, no man can judge you for that, see how the water has washed the blade clean"

"But... But I am a lady, a lady of Winterfell, not a mercenary made to kill"

"You are not a mercenary little bird, yes you are a lady of Winterfell, but the cold of the north runs through you. You are your father's daughter, he would be proud of you. You acted as the direwolf you are, strong and fearless, be proud little one"

Sandor turned from the girl and made towards the horse.

"S... Sandor" he froze it was the first time he had heard her call him by name. He froze, stiffening at the mention of that name on her lips, no man or woman had called him by his true name for so long. He was unworthy of being called by this, he was the dog, made to do the bidding of others. He turned to chastise the girl, but stopped himself when he saw the expression on the girls face. Yes, he would allow this girl to call him by his name, the name his forebears had given him, a name he had long since stopped considering his own. Yet here was this girl, not yet a woman calling his name so softly. A girl who had placed her life in danger so he could survive. He was not worthy of this mercy, he had sworn to protect her, not her protect him.

"Yes little bird, what is it" the words flowing freer from his lips than they had done in years, he felt a release in the knowledge that another living being had placed themselves in danger freely and willingly. This emotion was new to Sandor he felt grateful to the little bird. He was unsure whether he liked this feeling, he did not want to grow to care for the little bird, for why would she ever reciprocate his feelings, he was only due the scraps from the masters table, not the friendship of this highborn girl.

"You are welcome" that was all she had to say, the politeness ingrained into her by the Septa's words, the falseness of the courts. He turned to gather his thoughts, the sooner they moved from this place the better for him, the less to remind him of the little birds kindness and softness. He needed to focus on his task, of protecting her and so far he had already placed her in danger because of his status something he could not risk to do again.

Sandor picked the girl up and placed her onto the saddle, as he swung himself onto the horses back he felt her move against his chest, to a more secure position. He thought to himself "she is becoming more comfortable , could it be she is viewing me as safe company?" he mused to himself as he asked the horse to move forwards.

"Sandor"

"Yes little bird"

"I want you to know that I understand you will not harm me, that you are my defender, my protector"

Sandor looked into himself and cursed, the little bird was changing, she was becoming more familiar with his presence, his harsh tones no longer held the menace they did so many months before.

Maybe this girl could be his salvation, his atonement. The little bird was no longer afraid.

This made Sandor smile, he was glad that the little bird could not see this, he knew what fear a hounds smile could cause.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own the following characters, they are from the wonderful imagination of GRRM

Please review, I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 7

She felt the horse move forward, the man behind her settling into the saddle. She relaxed into his chest. He had given her his thanks, he had shown humility. She recalled staring at his face, gazing into the twisted, cratered skin ravaged by fire, but the eyes, how had she failed to notice his eyes before. The depths of them threatening to swallow her whole, so reminiscent of the northern skies, but this man was born by flames, shaped by pain and suffering and humiliation.

She wanted to reach out to this man, to make him realise that he was changing before her. That she was changing aswell. Sansa wanted to become more, more than the little bird that she was thought of. She wanted to become a true Stark, fearless and fair.

He had told her that the blood of the direwolf ran through her veins, could this be true, could she be strong and fearless. She could but try.

"Where are we heading, Sandor?"

"To the Blackwater Rush little bird, we need to find shelter, somewhere I can hunt"

She felt uneasy at this, "Hunt" what did he mean by this? what would he want to hunt? Men? Animals? Little birds?

"Hunt?" she asked. She heard the barking laughter of the man behind her.

"Food, little bird, there are no marketplaces, or grand kitchens where we are going."

Sansa looked down feeling foolish at questioning his motives, why would the thought cross her mind that he would harm her. Had he not promised to keep her safe.

Sansa closed her eyes, wishing a dreamless sleep to come upon her, her wish was granted.

She was woken by the sound of pounding water "the Blackwater Rush" she thought, they had arrived. Sansa looked at the water foaming white, the powerful water surging forwards. She looked for the man. He was stood looking into the cascading depths of the water. Sansa rose and walked behind him, the man turned looking down towards her.

"Little bird, you are awake"

She looked up into his face, she thought " yes, I am awake, I have woken from my slumber into this new world. A world of possibility, a world free from the shackles of courtly life. A world where I am free to become the true person I am"

Sansa looked around her, she noticed the clearing in which they had stopped, there was shelter surrounding them, a gentle hollow in which they could rest. She saw a small bundle of fur laid by the saddle on the ground, Sansa moved towards the small pile. Rabbits. He had hunted. Sansa was glad she had been spared the sight of the death of these small creatures.

Sansa looked around her trying to think of something she could contribute to this small offering. She noticed broken branches and twigs on the ground. A fire she thought, I can offer him warmth. Sansa bent to collect the leavings of the great tree's surrounding them making a pile. She was aware of the great man watching her movements, scrutinising her actions.

She turned to him. "Do you have a way of lighting a fire?"

He stared at her, Sansa inhaled sharply remembering his words in King's landing while the city burned around them.

"Aye, little bird, move away"

She watched as the big man stooped to create a source of heat to cook their meagre meal on, producing a flint and steel sending bright sparks towards the dead wood. The man stepped away a wary look crossing his features, he moved towards the pile of fur, Sansa watched as he gently picked up the first small creature from the ground, cradling it in his palm as if it were some precious jewel. She saw as the man thrust a blade into the small creatures belly, she heard the hiss as the creatures entrails were thrown into the fire. Sansa looked away.

"Little bird, come, pay heed to my actions. We need to eat, we cannot eat the leaves on the tree's or the grass which grows on the ground. We need nourishment."

Sansa understood the mans meaning, she knew that he meant well. But the thought turned her stomach sour. How can I eat this. Sansa became aware of growing murmur from her stomach, she needed to eat.

After they had consumed their meal, Sansa sat huddled close to the fire, she felt the man's stare on her, the growing uneasiness of her being so close to the flames. She looked as the light from the flames played across his twisted features, throwing shadows across the deep ridges on his face.

Sansa moved closer towards the big man, she was within reaching distance of him. How would he react she thought if I reached out and touched his face, she thought. Would he recoil from me. Would he bite?

Sansa resolved to push such thoughts from her mind. This was improper, but still she wondered how would these scars feel beneath her hand.

The man spoke "Sleep little bird, I will watch over you."

Sansa laid on the ground, she looked at the big man peering down at her.

"Good night Sandor"

The man merely grunted his acknowledgement. She felt the warm drag of sleep drawing over her. She released herself to its embrace.

The man sat back and steadily watched, his face impassive and deep in thought.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: sorry for taking so long to update, things have been a bit mental. I'm getting married in 3 months and everything seems too have piled up. Any way hope you enjoy :)**

Chapter 8

He sat and watched the little bird sleeping so soundly before the fire, her shallow breaths raising her chest gently. Sandor was glad to have these moments alone. The little bird wasn't so afraid anymore. She could look at him unflinching; this was new and altogether not unpleasant. Maybe they could learn to tolerate each other; it would at least make their journey more bearable. Sandor decided that he would try to be kinder towards the little bird. She at least deserved that.

He stared into the fire watching the flames guttering in the breeze, he had to look away. The flames still held terror for him even in this quiet place, for from the crowds and screams of a burning Kings Landing the flames still terrified him. The little bird had sat so close to the fire, he had felt his heart beating loudly in his chest, Sandor had sat fixed, it was all he could do to stop himself from walking over and drag the girl away from it by her hair. He needed to learn to control his impulses, to quiet the storm that raged in his heart. He did not want to scare the little bird away. He needed her.

Sandor thought ahead to where they should go next, the plan of heading to Acorn Hall still stood. They needed to find an Inn, he needed wine. Water would not crush the dark thoughts from his mind; he needed to wash away the memories to surrender him to oblivion. What little sleep he had managed was fitful full of flames and marionette knights. Yes, he needed wine. Sandor decided that they would not sleep on the forest floor another night, he would find an Inn.

Sandor lay back resting his hands behind his head, they were safe in this clearing, he should try to sleep. He turned to gaze at the little bird lying, curled on the ground. He noticed that the little bird had begun to shake, was she crying? He took a longer look at the small thing lying helpless on the ground. Small sobs were wracking her body making her convulse. He went to her, kneeling gently on the hard ground. He took her shoulder in his hand, shaking it gently. The girl woke with a start.

"Hmm, what is it" she mumbled, fear falling over her face like a veil.

"You were crying little one"

"I was?" he saw the girl reach her hand to her face, feeling the wetness that coursed down her face. "I was dreaming…. I think?"

"What were you dreaming of little bird?" the man asked as he stared into her face

"I was being chased, by a lion with claws like daggers. I tried to hide but wherever I hid it found me"

The big man sat back on his haunches, the girls dream could be her reality. They were being chased, a thousand men would follow them to recover the little bird and restore her to her gilded cage.

"Don't worry little one, I will keep you safe. No one will harm you"

" What about in my dreams? I have nowhere to hide and no one to protect me there"

The big man cast his eyes down. What she spoke was true, he may be able to protect her physically. But, she was still at the mercy of her mind. The little bird was as scarred as he was. Only hers didn't show as readily.

ocument here...


	9. Chapter 9

**As always non of the characters belong to me they all come from the wonderful Mr Martin. Hope you enjoy it! And please please please review, it's food for the soul :)**

**On a personal note, how do I go about finding a Beta? any offers please get in touch**

**Thankyou :)**

Chapter 9

As the dawn broke they were riding hard. Sansa watched as the trees flew by the big man had not told her where they were heading. She was troubled by her dream the previous night. It had seemed so real, the big golden lion always two steps behind her. She had tried to hide; she had tried to call for help. None of it worked. She was glad to have been woken by the big man; he wasn't as fearsome as the lion of her dream.

She had grown more accustomed to the movement of the big horse now, she found the steady rhythm soothing in a way she never thought she would. And more surprisingly she had grown fond of the solid mass of the man's chest behind her. She felt safe when he was there, protected. All sense of propriety had left her now. She no longer blushed when the movement of the horse pushed her hips to his, or when the man's hand grazed past her chest when he moved to steady the horse. The girl was sure there was not an ulterior motive to these movements and if the man felt embarrassment at this, he did not say so.

They had been riding for hours when in the distance she saw the faint wisps of smoke curling towards the heavens. She tensed. Suddenly alert for every movement in the trees and bushes surrounding them.

"Sandor there is people ahead!"

"I know little bird, we will not sleep on the forest floor another night, my bones are weary, the horse is tired and I need wine" He replied

"Oh, what if we are recognised? What will happen to us? I would take an uncomfortable night over having to go back to Kings Landing"

"We will be fine little one, just keep that pretty head down and don't speak"

The girl understood his meaning. If she spoke she would give away her highborn status. However her attire could not look any less ladylike. There was no other way to describe her, she was brown. The days of bright silks and intricate embroidery had gone. The gown was ruined and no amount of washing would restore it to its former beauty. Sansa longed for a bath, to be able to sink into the warm depth and wash away the past days troubles. Maybe the stay in the inn would have it benefits.

The horse slowed as they drew at the edges of the village, there was not much to see. A few huts and some goats tied to pegs. War had not reached this place yet. As they drew close to the inn she saw a small boy dart out from the behind the low building.

"Ser, can I take your mount?" the young boy asked. He could be no older than Bran, Sansa thought. He had wiry, observant countenance about him.

"Take the animal, but watch yourself. He does not take kindly to folk" Sandor replied. In response the animal flattened its ears snorting in the young boy's direction.

Sansa watched as the man removed the horse's saddle and panniers and threw the reins in the direction of the boy.

They walked into the inn; Sansa noted the low ceiling the smoke swirling upwards to the roof from the tallow candles. The place was deserted save for a portly inn keeper sat by the fire. The man looked up and grunted as he saw the big man approaching him.

"What can I do for you?" the man said gruffly, it was clear that the man was half drunk. She saw no flicker of fear as he looked upon the big man.

"A room, biggest one you have. Now" Sandor retorted

The inn keeper rose lurching from the small stool where he had been sat and beckoned them towards a stair way. As the rose up the stairs, Sansa could smell cooking. Her mouthwatering unbidden and she thought how nice it would be to have something in her stomach that they had not had to cook themselves.

The man drew to a stop outside a door, it looked old slightly lopsided the knots in the wood rough and bare. The man pushed the door open with a grunt and Sandor strode in surveying the sight before him. Sansa followed closely in his wake. She surveyed the room absorbing the scene. The room was sparse. There was a large bed, only one she noticed ominously. A small table with a bowel and a jug placed on it, a high backed chair and a couple of the foul smelling tallow candles she had smelt earlier. But in the corner there was a wooden bath, her heart soared when she saw this. The Gods had answered her thoughts she smiled.

"It'll do" the big man nodded at the innkeeper throwing him a few coins.

"I guess you'll want a feed" The innkeeper enquired. "We've nowt special, some stew and warm bread and wine. But, it's hot and filling"

"Aye, we will be down in a few moments. While we are eating have your boy draw a bath and make a fire." Sandor grunted.

"As you wish M'lord" the innkeeper turned his back and walked out of the room closing the door firmly behind him. The big man turned to Sansa

"How do you find this" he asked the Sansa. "Grand enough for you?"

She spoke the words that first came to her mind. "There's only one bed!". The big man threw his head back and laughed when he heard this.

"Aye, little bird. There's only but one bed"

Sandor moved to the door and Sansa followed. They went down the stairs back into the main room. They still were the only people in the building. They moved to a table furthest from the fire. An old woman approached them with a flagon of wine and two cups. She watched as the big man poured a cup and threw it back swiftly followed by another then another. He caught the woman's wrist in his hand "another flagon" he said gruffly.

Sansa sat back and watched them man getting quickly drunk, his lips beginning to hang loosely. She turned away to try and hide her disgust in his behaviour. She picked up her cup and took a small sip. It was foul, dry and harsh burning her throat as it went down." How can he enjoy this?" she thought. Seemingly able to read her thoughts the man looked at her.

"Not pretty enough for you little one? Upset by the past times of men?"

"No. This is not pretty, but neither are you. You are drinking enough to quash the flames of the hells themselves. I don't understand why"

The man sat back in his chair laughing openly in her face "what do you know of why I drink? What do you know of what I want to drown? Why would you even care? I drink to drown out the screaming if you want to know the hundreds of screams. The memories the lights, the fires. The hundreds of lives I have destroyed. You want to know why I drink? To quiet the beast inside me. Have you ever been drunken little one?"

"No, I have not" she said affronted by the accusation.

The man pushed the cup towards her "Drink up little girl"

"I am not a girl. I am a woman. I have had my moon blood I was to be wed. Stop calling me a little girl" she picked her cup up and drained it trying to hide the grimace on her face. She felt it hit her stomach fast making it queasy. She saw as the man filled her cup up again and she repeated the action, draining it in one go. She saw the man looking at her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the woman approaching with two steaming bowls. She placed them in front of the couple and smelled the steam rising up from it. She found she was ravenous and dug into it with her spoon digging for meat. The man grabbed her wrist.

"Slow down, you will make yourself sick"

She looked at the man, his face swimming before her eyes. She looked at the hand on her wrist and brought her free hand up peeling his fingers away. She kept hold of his hand softly caressing his fingertips. She felt the rough callouses and brought it to her face.

She felt the man's surprise at her actions, but he did not move his hand.

She felt strong.


End file.
